Real
by IvyAdair
Summary: Lavellan awakens from a dream about Solas. - A short, angsty post-epilogue Solavellan drabble.


**AN**: I got a request for some happy solavellan fluff. This is what I wound up writing. I could not, of course, give *this* to the person who requested it as its angsty as hell. But, I still liked it so I'm sharing it. I don't know, maybe it speaks to my current mental state. Apologies in advance. This work has also been posted on my AO3 and my tumblr, the links to which are found on my profile.

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_"Ar lath ma'vhenan."_

The breath left Lavellan's body as she sat up straight in her bed. Panting softly, she clutched at the pain ripping through her chest. The moonlight streaming in from the open balcony doors highlighted her bare face. She reached up to wipe the sleep from her eyes, but stopped as her fingers came away wet. She'd been crying in her sleep again. Lavellan pulled her knees to her chest, laid her cheek down on the bony cap, and sighed. The dream had seemed so real, like he had really been in her arms. Yet the coldness of her empty bed, like a great yawning void, reminded her of the truth. He was gone.

Months had passed since Corypheus' defeat. Some of her companions had moved on, like Varric who she'd had no doubt would return to Kirkwall as soon as the opportunity arose. Vivienne as well, having returned to the life she preferred in Orlais. She still wrote to the both of them, wishing them well. She meant it too, for Lavellan had always had a knack for making friends despite the solitary lifestyle of her former life. Their losses had been easier to bear. The loss of another, however, had rent the space their group occupied in her heart open. Now, it felt as if it was voiding its very life essence. If these intangible places could bleed, Lavellan was sure she'd have gone through every bandage in Skyhold. Without thinking, she turned and swept her hand across the empty spot in her bed. He'd lain there once, fully clothed and held her while she cried over the events of Adamant. Yet, the area felt like _his_ and in her mind's eye she could imagine him laying next to her night after night, murmuring soft sweetness in her ears. She shivered at the thought of his arms around her again. The excitement was quickly tempered by the sudden resurgence of _loss_.

With a soft sigh, Lavellan rolled and rose from the great bed in her quarters. She pulled a silken robe from the back of her desk chair and wrapped it around herself as she padded down the stairs and out into the hall outside her quarters. The moon shone through the cracks in the stone and the wind shrieked around her. The ever-present ravens remained and Lavellan waved at them, feeling stupid but somehow never able to stop herself.

The hall was mostly empty. A few guards stood straighter as she emerged and murmured their greetings to her. She saluted them, despite it being a human custom. It made them happy, so she did it. Her bare feet slapped against the stone as she walked down the length of the hall and went through the door to the library. She was unprepared for the sensations that washed over her as she caught sight of Solas' murals stretching up to greet her. Her eyes pricked with tears as she turned around in place, watching her journey through the eyes of a mysterious Elven apostate. Lavellan was no fool, he'd made it clear to her towards the end that there was more to him than lay on the surface. She only wished that he had trusted her enough to tell her what he was hiding from the world. Longing washed through her body, gripping on to the innermost parts of her feeling. She studied the unfinished mural, the one he'd sketched but had disappeared before finishing. She ran her fingers over the lines of the drawing, imagining his fingers lingering on its surface. She traced the outline of the wolf adorning its surface and tried to picture in her mind how it'd look if it had been finished. The steadily welling tears in her eyes finally fell and flowed gracefully down her cheeks. She sniffed and wiped her cheeks with her fingertips. She bent forward, forehead pressing against the cold stone of the blank mural in front of her. Her eyes shut and she breathed deeply.

A soft hand on her shoulder made her stir. Without thinking she reached up, covering the foreign appendage with her own. When the hand squeezed her shoulder, she sighed again.

"Vhenan."

She gasped and whirled around. The face in front of her was familiar, with its sharp angles, pointing ears and smoothed head. She brought her free hand to his cheek, feeling the tautness of his skin. She stroked a line to his nose and back up.

"Solas," she breathed. "Are you real?"

He bent his head down and pressed his forehead to hers. She shut her eyes and felt her bottom lip quivering. The warmth of his skin felt real; the weight of his head pressing into her was real. The smooth planes of his chest covered in that ridiculous sweater, all of it felt so real. His arms slipped around her waist and pulled her body flush against his; her arms swiftly wrapped around his neck and cradled the back of his head. Their lips connected in unison, like they'd never been apart. The soft sensation of his mouth against hers was like being home again. Fingers, strong from holding a staff and paintbrush alike, gripped her backside and his mouth swallowed her surprised moan. As her brain finally connected what was happening, she gently pulled his head closer to hers and returned the kiss with all the fervor she could muster. Her tongue swept across his bottom lip and he moaned a little, surrendering his mouth to hers. Their heads tilted in opposite directions in unison, the kiss deepening as her tongue slid into his mouth. Her hips bucked unconsciously against his. A moment later, he tensed suddenly and pulled away. She said nothing, waiting for him to speak, to say something…anything.

Instead he stepped away from her, his gait as light and dance-like as ever. "I'm sorry, ma'vhenan. I thought…I thought I could do this, but I can't. It's wrong of me to take advantage of you like this."

He turned, as if to walk away from her. "No!" she cried, "don't you dare walk away from me again."

He sighed and clenched his hand into a fist by his side. Softly, he murmured:

"Wake up."


End file.
